A/N: So, this is just a little oneshot, B/B comfort because I just love it so much. The "Polo" part references the way Russ would say "Marco" outside Brennan's classroom as a child, and she would respond "Polo"...just to clear things up, in case you're not an obsessed freak like me, and didn't remember. :-) As always, review review review! No new story unless I get some major reviews!

Disclaimer: Oh, did I forget to tell you? I'm Hart Hanson in disguise.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Looking into those eyes, he knew what he had to do.

It had been a trying couple of weeks on them all, but no one so much as Bones. My Bones, he though to himself with a silent chuckle. Dr. Temperance Brennan, world renowned forensic anthropologist and author, his 'Bones' as he so lovingly called her, would not hesitate to use her finely honed martial arts skills on him if she knew what he was thinking. She was not a piece of property, didn't belong to anyone.

She would blame it on his "alpha-male tendencies"

But Booth couldn't help his need, his overwhelming and consuming need to protect her. After all, wasn't it "rational", as she would say, to want to protect those you love?

Yes, those you love. Booth knew he loved her, he had given up trying to fool himself and deny it for a while now. He couldn't pinpoint exactly when his feelings had changed—maybe they had always been there, bubbling underneath the surface of their "sexual tension", as Angela had called it, and he had just refused to see it. After all, there was The Line.

And you didn't cross The Line.

At least, that's what he kept telling himself. What he repeated over and over in his mind, a broken record playing every time he felt the overwhelming want—need—to take her in his arms and hold her, kiss her, kiss all her pain, her hurt, her loneliness away.

Which was every minute of every day.

Especially right now, standing in the doorway of Sid's. Leaning against the frame with a half smile on his face, he watched Brennan sitting at the bar, pushing around her sesame chicken and twirling her chopsticks absentmindedly. Her head resting in one hand and steel blue eyes clouded with hints of grey, staring thoughtfully at her plate, he couldn't help but think how damn cute she looked.

Stop it, Seely, Booth thought. The Line. The Line, The Line, The Line.

Walking over to the bar in a few long strides, Booth waved half heartedly to Sid, plopping himself down on the stool next to his partner.

"Hey, Bones!" He gave her his signature charm smile, but she didn't even look up. Just pushed her chicken to the other side of her plate. He tried again. "What brings you here so late? You know, you really need to sleep, Bones. You don't get nearly enough sleep…" he rambled, stopping when he saw her cool blue eyes staring up at him, glassy with unshed tears. He knew she was upset about her brother, Russ. It was nearing New Year's, and she was only reminded of her brother leaving, as he had done when she was fifteen, and again last year with her father. He always left her. Booth knew how much it wore on her.

Brennan knew she has lost the fight, knew that she would have to give in and tell him. God, when he looked at her like that, there was nothing she wouldn't do. Nothing she wouldn't tell. It was those damn eyes—those eyes so full of worry, of passion. The eyes that seemed to whisper to her, telling her everything was going to be okay. With a sigh and a deep breath, and one last look into the chocolaty brown eyes that were deep with emotion, she began.

"Russ left around this time when I was fifteen," she started, knowing that he knew already.

"I know," came his soft reply.

"I-I just, I miss having someone to say 'Polo' to. I miss having someone to do everything Russ did—protect me, make me feel wanted." She paused, taking a deep breath to steady her wavering voice. "To love me. I miss, I miss having someone care where I am, all the time." She pushed her food around in her plate a big more, refusing to meet his gaze.

But Booth would have none of that.

"Hey." He slid a finger under her chin, tilting her face up to meet his. He looked into her eyes, his chocolaty brown pools searching hers for the feisty, argumentative Bones he knew so well. She was hidden beneath a cloudy haze, her eyes a swirling grey-blue, a lone tear streaming down her cheek. With his free hand, Booth wiped the tear away with the pad of his thumb. Never moving his finger from her chin, he spoke softly, comfortingly, his eyes never leaving hers. She looked so vulnerable. "You already have all that. Someone who wants to protect you, care for you. Someone who does chare where you are, all the time.

Pause. Deep breath. Here goes nothing.

"Someone who loves you. You have me."

Searching her eyes for answers, for any hint of reciprocation for those feelings, he saw a small sparkle in her teary blue orbs.

Screw The Line.

Looking into those eyes, he knew what he had to do.

Slowly, hesitantly, he leaned in, their faces millimeters apart. He could feel her breath on his lips; see her eyes flutter closed as she leaned a touch closer. It was all the reassurance he needed.

Closing the small gap between them, his lips were on hers; a sweet, soft, feathery kiss full of promise. The finger under her chin moved to caress her neck as her hands ran through his hair, pulling him closer and deepening the kiss. Sighing against his mouth Brennan smiled to herself.

Well, that'll make a girl feel better.

When the need for oxygen became too strong, they pulled apart reluctantly, foreheads resting against each other.

A small smile played on both their lips as they became lost, once again, in each other's eyes. Sid gave them a knowing grin from behind the bar.

It's about time.